


Kiss Me In The Shadows Of Every Spark

by IfWallsCouldMuke



Series: Muke as FUCK [41]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: (basically), (fuck), (i REPEAT HAPPY ENDING), (it's just Muke and one appearance by Ben), (not in that order tho), (um), Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Architect! Luke, Construction Site Worker! Michael, Flirty AF Luke, Gay Sex, Happy Ending, M/M, Riding, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 10:05:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14186514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IfWallsCouldMuke/pseuds/IfWallsCouldMuke
Summary: “This is not a playground for kids,” Michael snickers at the twink. “Might wanna play with something else, blondie.”“Oh, really?” Blondie walks closer to Michael, and dear God, no one should have eyesthisblue. Those sinful blue eyes rake over Michael’s yellow-overall-clad body. “What else would you like for me to play with?”“Why are you here?” Michael dodges the question with his own.Something is slapped on his chest.“I drew this,” blondie replies.Michael takes the sheet of paper from the blue-eyed twink.“A blueprint,” Michael curses.“I’m the architect who designed the condo you work on eight hours a day, five days every week until the end of the month,” twink blondie purrs out. “And I’m sure I can map out other things too.”Or,Luke is a huge flirt and Michael is more than okay with that.





	Kiss Me In The Shadows Of Every Spark

**Author's Note:**

> I think most of you were not happy with the ending of my last work so...
> 
> (Edit like five hours after I first posted this)
> 
> Shout out to my good friend/fan [Emma](wastethemuke.tumblr.com) for giving me this idea!

Michael blinks rapidly since the sawdust got into his eyes and he is yet to put his safety goggles on. It’s uncomfortable when _anything_ gets trapped between his eyeball and the contact lens.

He just put his safety goggles on when a lanky blondie—whose curls are tied into a very attractive bun—walks into the construction site with a pen perched between his left ear and the left side of his head.

“This is not a playground for kids,” Michael snickers at the twink. “Might wanna play with something else, blondie.”

“Oh, really?” Blondie walks closer to Michael, and dear God, no one should have eyes _this_ blue. Those sinful blue eyes rake over Michael’s yellow-overall-clad body. “What else would you like for me to play with?”

“Why are you here?” Michael dodges the question with his own.

Something is slapped on his chest.

“I drew this,” blondie replies.

Michael takes the sheet of paper from the blue-eyed twink.

“A blueprint,” Michael curses.

“I’m the architect who designed the condo you work on eight hours a day, five days every week until the end of the month,” twink blondie purrs out. “And I’m sure I can map out other things too.”

\---

On a Saturday, Michael goes to his favourite café. He has his favourite light grey beanie on, complete with his almost-white grey jumper. Given it’s nearing April, it’s quite chilly out now.

“If it isn’t my favourite construction worker,” comes a slightly unfamiliar voice.

“What the fuck?” is the brilliant thing that comes out of Michael’s mouth.

“Hello to you too,” blondie grins.

“Why are you here? Wearing that apron? I thought you were an architect?” Michael blurts out.

“This is my eldest brother’s café. I help out sometimes,” blondie shrugs.

“So you have another brother? I pity him,” Michael lets out a small satisfactory _heh_ sound.

“Only one being pitied here is you,” blondie purrs out.

“And why’s that?”

“You want in my pants but you know I’m out of your league,” blondie giggles and hands Michael his coffee. “Ben knows your order. This one’s on me, by the way.”

“Luke, you sexual bastard. Stop harassing my customer and actually make yourself useful!” the café owner yells at blondie—Luke.

 

\---

Michael groans when he sees the blond architect at the construction site the following week.

“What’s His Highness doing here?” Michael sneers when the blondie walks towards him.

“I’m quite a big fan of watching your biceps flex when you lift things,” the architect grins, his tone unabashed. “Which you should be doing right now.”

“Aren’t you out of my league?” Michael snarls.

“Oh, doesn’t mean I don’t dream about you fucking me, Michael,” blondie purrs out, who apparently knows Michael’s name. “Your hard muscles flexing as you hold me down and fuck me raw… wouldn’t that be amazing?”

It takes all of Michael’s willpower not to pop a boner.

“Just think about it,” blondie purrs in Michael’s ear.

\---

Next time Michael sees Luke is at the construction site. Luke is wearing a red-and-black plaid that covers his broad yet slim figure well, and ripped skinny black jeans. His brown boots look so out of place.

“What are you doing here?” Michael arches a brow at the architect when they’re within earshot distance.

“Mm, I know you get off work in half an hour, Michael… you can come back to mine and have dinner with me,” Luke purrs out. Michael wonders for a split second why and how Luke became an architect when he’s so good at making Michael’s dick to harden just with a few sentences.

“If I say no?”

“I _know_ you’re gonna say yes,” Luke purrs out, moving until their bodies are flush together and his hand is cupping Michael’s half-hard clad dick.

 

The remaining minutes of his work was absolute hell. Michael had a hard time getting his boner to calm down. He mutters a hasty good-bye to his coworkers before making a bee-line for his car.

Luke is waiting for him at his usual parking spot.

“How do you—never mind. Don’t you have your own car?” Michael asks the blond.

“I don’t. My brothers take turns driving me but I told Ben—the one who owns the café—that I have a _ride_ today,” the way Luke says ‘ride’ sends chills down Michael’s spine.

 

Luke gives Michael his address and Michael drives mostly focused. It’s hard to focus on the road 100% when the modern equivalent of a fucking Greek god is sitting next to him. Also, Luke’s hand is skimming the inside of his thigh. He wants to tell the blond to shove off but that is precisely the moment Luke undoes his stupid work overalls so his bare cock is exposed.

(Michael makes a mental note then to wear underwear more often.)

“Luke, what are you—”

Michael can’t finish his sentence, not when he hears Luke diving down to lick at the tip of his cock. He thinks it’s a talent Luke can do this without unbuckling his seatbelt, but also concerned how he’s going to drive to Luke’s place when he’s _really_ distracted.

“Mm, such a big, tasty cock you got, _daddy_ ,” Luke purrs out, watching Michael’s cock getting to its full hardness.

Michael doesn’t protest when Luke starts getting more and more of his cock fit in his mouth, until his cockhead is buried in the blond’s throat. He lets out a guttural moan when Luke starts to bob his head up and down.

Michael comes down Luke’s throat a second before he arrives at Luke’s flat.

\---

“What the hell was that?” Michael growls when they get inside Luke’s suite. “Luke…”

“I wanted to taste daddy,” Luke pouts, locking the door. “And I liked the taste.”

 

Luke starts gather his ingredients and Michael offers to help, but Luke politely declines, saying that Michael is a guest. It only takes a minute for Michael to come up with his ‘revenge’ plan for what happened in the car.

When Luke starts to cook stuff on the oven, Michael sneaks behind Luke and starts pressing kisses down Luke’s pale neck. The architect giggles, leaning into the touches. Michael smirks against Luke’s neck and slowly undoes Luke’s jeans, pooling them around the blond’s ankles.

“What are you—”

“Didn’t know you were the type to wear lace panties, baby,” Michael grabs a handful of Luke’s lace-clad ass and gives it a nice squeeze.

Michael basks in the tiny whimpers Luke lets out as he bites and sucks bruises onto Luke’s plump ass, removing the lacy material for better access. By the time Michael reaches the part he wanted to reach, Luke’s entire ass is covered in love bites. He parts Luke’s asscheeks and licks up from the blond’s perineum to his hole, making him keen. When Michael delves his tongue in, he almost smirks from satisfaction that Luke jumps.

“Baby, keep cooking. I’m not doing anything,” Michael orders.

“But I’m hard,” Michael can hear that Luke is pouting.

“Daddy says you cook,” Michael reiterates in a sterner voice.

Luke whines once Michael resumes licking him out, the tip of his tongue reaching Luke’s prostate every now and then. Michael reaches around and starts stroking Luke’s cock in time of his tongue-thrusts. The loud pants and moans Luke lets out is a perfect indicator that the blond is close, so Michael decides to be merciful and whisper, “come for daddy, baby girl,” as he thumbs at the slit. The cry Luke lets out when he comes is so beautiful, Michael wants to hear it for rest of his life.

“Fuck,” Luke mutters as he comes down from his high. “Can’t believe you almost made me burn our stir fry.”

“Mm,” is all Michael says as he grabs his bowl from Luke.

\---

“Wow, you can cook and draw—technically… is there something you can’t do?” Michael chuckles, looking at Luke who’s dressed in an oversized sweater and black lace panties.

“Topping,” Luke purrs out, basically jumping onto Michael’s lap and straddling him.

“You’re currently on top of me,” Michael points out, his hands resting on swells of Luke’s asscheeks.

“You know what I mean, daddy,” Luke leans in and presses their lips together.

“You think—”

“How about you shut up and let me map out your body using my tongue?” Luke suggests, grinding their clothed dicks together. And, okay, Michael isn’t against that.

The bleach-blond watches Luke as the blond twink somehow makes getting rid of overalls sexy. He’s soon left in nothing but his birthday suit. It turns out Luke wasn’t kidding about the mapping out with his tongue part. Michael is groaning from all the fluttery kisses Luke presses on every inch of his body before he reaches Michael’s dick, which is already half-hard.

“Daddy wants his baby to ride his cock?” Luke says in an innocent way, batting his eyelashes.

“Daddy wants his baby to shut the fuck up and put his mouth to a better use,” Michael groans low.

Luke giggles—an amazing feature given Luke is about to have a mouthful of cock—and laps at Michael’s glistening tip. Michael was about to flip them over and press Luke’s lanky body against the sofa when Luke grabs a bottle of lube from under the sofa.

“You keep lube under your sofa,” Michael states dumbly.

“I have to be prepared to finger myself anywhere,” Luke bats his eyes innocently, contrary to his words.

“Do you want me in your mouth of your ass, baby?” Michael asks, just to be polite.

“Do you have to ask?” Luke growls, and what a sexy, trying-to-be-dom growl it was. Michael laughs and presses a kiss to Luke’s temple, taking the bottle from Luke and spreading the gel-like substance over his very-hard dick.

“Jus’ wanna feel you,” Luke whispers before he sinks down on Michael’s cock, all the way to the hilt at one go.

Michael can’t hold back the little grunts and _soft_ moans of pleasure as Luke rides him at a fast pace, like his life depends on it. His hands find their way back to the blond twink’s asscheeks and lets the said blond twink set his own pace. He _does_ moan loudly into Luke’s mouth when they resume their kiss, hot, needy, and full of passion. Michael knows the twink found his prostate when he lets out a soft gasp, ass clenching around his cock.

“Such a good boy, riding your daddy’s cock like a good one,” Michael whispers against Luke’s lips, and that sets off Luke into swearing as he spurts all over Michael’s chest. He grunts low, only needing to thrust for maybe half a minute before he releases inside Luke’s ass.

“Mm,” is all Luke says, pecking Michael’s lips with a dopey, fucked-out, post-coital sleepy smile. “Stay?”

Luke falls asleep before waiting for Michael’s reply, which he finds cute.

\---

_3 years later_

“Luke Robert Clifford, I swear to fucking God—”

A loud whine interrupts Michael, who is _100%_ whipped for his husband. He sighs and tucks Luke back into their bed.

“You can come to the construction site later, baby,” Michael presses a kiss to a grinning Luke’s forehead, then his wedding band.


End file.
